As he came down to the moment when he had called up
from the Bartholdi and heard mysterious sounds in his flat, substantiating
his story by indicating the receiver that dangled useless from the
telephone, even Hickey was staggered.
But not beaten. When Maitland ceased speaking the detective smiled
superiority to such invention.
"Very pretty," he conceded. "Yeh c'n tell it all to the magistrate
to-morrow morning. Meantime yeh'll have time to think up a yarn
explainin' how it come that a crook like Anisty made three attempts in
one day to steal some jewels, 'nd didn't get 'em. Where were they all
this time?"
"In safe-keeping," Maitland lied manfully, with a furtive glance toward
the alcove.
"Whose?" pursued Mr. Hickey truculently.
"Mine," with equanimity. "Seriously--_sleuth!_--are you trying to
make a charge against me of stealing my own property?"
"Yeh done it for a blind. 'Nd that's enough. Officer, take this man to the
station; I'll make the complaint."
The policeman hesitated, and at this juncture O'Hagan put in an
appearance, lugging a heavy brown-paper bundle.
"Beg pardon, Misther Maitland, sor----?"
"Well, O'Hagan?"
"The crowd at the dure, sor, is dishpersed," the janitor reported. "A
couple av cops kem along an' fanned 'em. They're askin' fer the two av
yees," with a careless nod to the policeman and detective.
"Yeh heard what I said," Hickey answered the officer's look.
"I'm thinkin'," O'Hagan pursued, calmly ignoring the presence of the
outsiders, "thot these do be the soot that domned thafe av the worruld
stole off ye the day, sor.
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